Reclaiming A Lost Soul
by AJ Matthews
Summary: Prequel to 'Shadow of Memories'! This fic starts with Eomer finding Legolas and helping him to rejoin the living. R for a good reason! Finally updated!
1. Prologue

Note: All unknowns are my characters! This fic deals with attempted rape, the aftermaths of years of it, and suicide attempts, so it is Rated R! This is the prequel to `Shadows of Memories' (SOM)! Takes place ten years ago, when Éomer first rescued Legolas! The poem is for Legolas; I'm on a trend with starting each of these stories with a poem for Legolas in the prologue...  
  
Prologue  
  
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Is there no-one out there who can help me now?  
  
Is there no hope left to be found in this world?  
  
Faded memories, broken dreams...  
  
What does it all mean?  
  
And who cares in the end, no matter how you suffer?  
  
Not wanting to hear your cries and screams  
  
Not wanting to know the awful truth.  
  
For who could believe in such things  
  
Who could accept living in this Hell?  
  
Somebody, please...  
  
Help me before it's too late...  
  
Before I'm fully broken  
  
To the point of no return  
  
****************************************************  
  
Éomer, King of Rohan, dismounted from his horse when he arrived at his destination. He'd been told that this was the best place to hire a servant.  
  
The king's troops dismounted as well, as Éomer knocked on the door.  
  
"Who is it?" a cold-sounding voice asked from within.  
  
"Tis King Éomer of Rohan. I have come to hire one of your servants," Éomer said, being used to having to give his full title.  
  
The door opened slightly, and a chubby man with a round middle peered out and inspected the man who stood before him. He assessed the worth of the clothes and sword that Éomer carried, and the soldiers who stood loyally beside their king.  
  
"You may enter, your majesty, but I fear that the presence of all those soldiers would frighten my servants," the man said sweetly.  
  
Éomer had been expecting that. "They shall not accompany me, but will remain nearby in case of trouble," the king said, asserting his authority.  
  
The man nodded again, and beckoned for the young-looking King of Rohan to follow him inside.  
  
"What kind of servant are you looking for?" the man questioned.  
  
"A fast and nimble servant, as well as fleet and agile." Éomer looked at the man next to him. "Do you have such a servant?"  
  
The evil man was thinking quickly. The elf he owned was the fastest servant, and he was currently recovering from a suicide attempt. But he hated to miss a bargain.  
  
"I think so, but he is wounded somewhat. He needs a little time to recover," the man said carefully.  
  
"I wish to see him for myself, to make certain that he is adequate." The words were spoken quietly, but with an undertone that hinted that it would not bode well if an argument ensued.  
  
The man hesitated again. Lector then remembered that the elf was chained and could do no harm, so he nodded and led the king to the elf's room.  
  
He opened the door and stiffened slightly.  
  
Éomer's eyes narrowed.  
  
A smaller, blond figure lay under a larger and heavier man. Slender wrists were bandaged and chained above the blond head. The bulky man was straddling the listless prisoner, who didn't move at all, even though he was being raped.  
  
Then Éomer got the shock of his life when he saw the eyes and ears of the victim. Emerald-green eyes, and pointed ears. A tiny silver tear streaked down the elf's face.  
  
"Legolas?" Éomer whispered hoarsely, before he raced over and pulled the larger man off of the elf beneath him. He touched the elf's face, knowing it instantly.  
  
Legolas had shut himself off from the world, so he could no longer feel pain or pleasure. But he felt a gentle hand touching his face, and saying his name. Somebody knew him, the elf thought incredulously. For the first time in years, someone knew who he was.  
  
Éomer was stricken when Legolas just lay there, motionless. The king of Rohan turned a furious glare on Lector.  
  
"Release him at once!" Éomer snapped. "This elf is one of my friends. What is he doing in a place like this?"  
  
"Hey, he was sold, same as the others. I won't release him. I paid good gold for him, even if he tried to kill himself. He's been here for nearly fifteen years," Lector said nervously.  
  
"I will not hesitate to call my soldiers in here if you do not release my friend at once!" Éomer said in a dangerous tone of voice.  
  
"Fine!" the man snapped, after thinking it over for a few moments. He took off his key chain and shuffled over to the bed. He unchained the elf, who still did not move. "Take him, and see how long it is until he tries to kill himself again, oh mighty king."  
  
Éomer inspected the practically nude elf on the bed.  
  
Very few physical wounds were on his front, save for a slice across one of his eyes and his bandaged wrists. But Legolas was so thin and pale, it was a miracle that he was alive. The only clothes he wore were threadbare leggings. It was Legolas's eyes which haunted Éomer. They were not... normal. A glazed-over look was in them.  
  
The king of Rohan gently picked Legolas up and turned him over. A hiss of anger came out of Éomer's mouth when he got a good look at the scars across the elf's back. The king glared at Lector.  
  
"You will be punished for this, for all know that I was searching for a lost Elven friend," Éomer said coldly. Even though Elessar had given up on Legolas, the king of Rohan thought bitterly.  
  
After he turned Legolas back over once more, Éomer removed his fine, silky cloak and wrapped it around the ice-cold elf. Éomer then lifted the weightless Legolas in his arms, and carried him away.  
  
Lector followed them to the door, and watched as the king left with his most valuable slave. "Like I said earlier: Good luck keeping him alive," Lector taunted angrily.  
  
Éomer said nothing, though a few of his soldiers brought his horse over. He mounted, and still held Legolas securely in his arms as he looked down at his gathered battalion. "We return to the castle immediately," the king instructed.  
  
The soldiers nodded and mounted as well. They knew better than to question their king.  
  
The group then rode back to their home, galloping hard.  
  
Éomer glanced down at Legolas, whose eyes were still clouded over. The elf needed a bath and a proper diet first. And he would have to tell Elessar that the impossible had happened. Legolas had been found.  
  
But the king of Rohan was incredulous at finding an Elven prince in such a predicament.  
  
How could something like this have happened to Legolas, Éomer wondered. And will he ever recover his gentle spirit again?  
  
To be continued 


	2. Confused Soul

Note: Actually, I wrote the poems myself… There will not be A/L SLASH in this fic! There may be flashbacks of it, but not current slash. This is before 'Shadows Of Memories', after all, and will primarily focus on Legolas. Of course, I will be alternating between Legolas's POV and Éomer's POV. And Aragorn will not be in this fic often. None of these are my characters! Elvish speech is in ''! This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Legolas will be OOC for a while, but it will change! Éomer's POV!

Confused Soul

Part 1

I couldn't believe where I'd found Legolas, especially after all these years of searching. Elessar had given up hope of finding him, but I had continued.

I would have thought that it would be the other way around.

I knew of what Aragorn and Legolas had meant to each other in the past. But I had never found out what happened fifteen years ago to make Legolas disappear. Elessar had searched for him for a few years, and then apparently had moved on.

I looked at the haunted eyes of the elf I'd found. Legolas had not moved or said a word since I'd taken him away from the Hell he'd been in. Fifteen years of that? To an elf? I was beyond disgusted; my anger bordered along a cold fury.

They'd broken him; I could see that much.

We finally reached my castle, and I dismounted. I rushed into the castle with the seemingly dead elf held tightly.

Téo would know what to do. He had known how to help me, after all.

I took Legolas directly to the Healers.

"Where is Téo?" I questioned when I did not see him.

"H-He went to visit his family," another Healer stammered. "He said to tell you that he'd be back in a few days."

I cursed silently and left the room in search of some of my servants.

I ordered, "Have warm water brought to my bathing room, as well as cloths, clean clothes and food."

They scampered to do as I said, for I was the King.

But as I looked down at Legolas's blank expression, I was not certain if I could help him.

I was only a king, after all. 

I carried Legolas to my bathing room, and found what I'd ordered had been carried out.

Towels and clothes were folded beside the large bathing tub, as well as silver trays of food. Soap and shampoo were on the side of it. I'd hung numerous plants around, for they reminded me a bit of the forest and of happier times.

I placed Legolas beside the tub and still he did nothing. He was in his own world right now, created by his need to escape from what was happening to him. I quickly prepared the bath and stood the elf up again.

I carefully stripped him out of his leggings and wrist bandages, before I  moved him into the tub. I then took up soap, wet it, and went to work on the engrained dirt thoroughly and quickly. The entire time, Legolas remained unmoving and unseeing. I finished relatively quickly and used a bucket to rinse him off and wet his hair.

I massaged shampoo into the dirty and tangled hair that had once been shiny and smooth. And a lighter shade of blond. When I was certain it could not get any cleaner, I rinsed that and cleaned his face once more. I picked up a long piece of cloth and draped it over my arm, before standing Legolas up again.

I dried him and dressed him in the dark leggings and shirt, before I picked him up once more and moved him to my room, and on my bed. I returned to the bathing room long enough to grab the food.

His hair was a mess with numerous tangles and snarls. I sat him up and used my own brush to begin fixing it. The braids he'd used to wear were not there any longer, probably removed by that man.

I had to cut out several tangles with one of my daggers, but it took a while before I was satisfied with the results. Legolas's blond hair hung below his shoulders again, smooth and silky. I braided it the way I remembered that it had been braided years ago.

Legolas looked better now, I thought, as I worked on the braids. The blond elf looked almost normal in the clean clothes, except for the gauntness. 

To my surprise, when I attempted to remove my hands from his hair, Legolas caught one in a weak grip.

I looked at him, and saw that his green eyes were focused on my face.

"Legolas?" I questioned gently, squeezing his hand with my own.

His voice was faint and hoarse as it cracked. It was as if he had not spoken for years.  

"W-Where a-am I?"

I was relieved to see that he was focused on the present again, instead of old nightmares.

"You're in Rohan, Legolas. I brought you to my castle."

Legolas said nothing, but gazed around the room.

I said quietly, "You should eat something, Legolas. You are thin and pale, and need to regain your strength for when I tell Elessar where you are."

To my shock, fear leaped into his green eyes as he shook his head, pleading wordlessly.

"D-Don't," Legolas whispered, terror written on his face.

"What's wrong? Don't what?" I asked, not understanding. 

What was Legolas so afraid of, I wondered. It didn't make sense for him to be afraid of Elessar knowing where he was. The two had been so much in love.

"H-He d-did this to me. He sent m-me there." His voice cracked again.

Disbelief soared in me. I couldn't have heard him right, I thought.

I questioned sharply, "What do you mean?"

I found it hard to believe that Elessar would do this to the one he loved. But then again, he had not showed much interest in finding Legolas.

"P-Please…" Tears ran down Legolas's face as he pleaded, which hurt me terribly.

The old Legolas never cried or let himself be seen if he did.

I instinctively reached out to wipe them away, and the elf jerked backwards.

"Please," he repeated. "S-Say nothing… H-He's hurt m-me enough."

"I will not tell him, then, Legolas. At least until you tell me the whole story. Eat for now and rest, for we can talk later."

The adrenaline rush Legolas had gained in his fear was fading again. I could tell, for he looked exhausted suddenly, as he bit carefully on a piece of fruit from the silver tray.

I offered him a cup of water, which he took in shaking hands, drinking thirstily. A second offer was accepted, as well as a third.

By that time, Legolas was half-asleep, dozing with his eyes open.

I pulled the covers back, pretending not to notice when Legolas flinched at my nearness. I recognized the signs of what had happened all too well, but I was not absolutely sure. If the elf had truly gone through fifteen years of it, even Téo might not be able to help him.

"Rest, Legolas, and regain your strength," I murmured, as I made to leave the room.

Legolas slipped into a flat position, and said in a very low voice, "T-Thank you."

I turned back and smiled gently at him. "You're welcome, Legolas. Now get some sleep."

He looked as if he wanted to say something.

"What is it? Say whatever is on your mind," I told him.

"W…Would you stay here? I…" Fear flickered in his green eyes.

I had to work hard to keep from gaping. Legolas scared of being left alone? That was new.

I nodded and returned to my chair slowly. "I will watch over you as you sleep. Now rest, my friend."

Gratitude appeared on Legolas's face, before he succumbed to an exhausted slumber.

I sat beside him silently, surprised slightly that he did not cross his arms over his chest as he slept.

I must have fallen asleep or dozed off myself, because I awoke to a strange sound.

Legolas was thrashing about in the bed, caught in the grip of a fearsome nightmare.

"No… I don't want this," he moaned. "Aragorn… why?" A whimper left his lips, in tune with the silver tear that ran down his face. "I love you… why did you do this? Why didn't you come?" His hoarse voice and the pain in it nearly had me in tears.

Cold anger settled in me at those words, as I stood and carefully looked at Legolas. The elf truly believed that Elessar had caused his pain. And I was starting to believe him.

But I saw something that took my attention off of Elessar. I reached out and grabbed Legolas's right arm, peering at his wrist.

A large, shiny scar was there, streaking across were the veins where. I easily caught his other arm and look at that wrist as well. The same scar was there.

And then I remembered what the man had said to me. 'Good luck in trying to keep him alive.'

"Please… no more…" Legolas begged.

Before I began trying to wake Legolas up, two angry thoughts crossed my mind.

First, what had happened to Legolas to make him want to commit suicide? It was obvious that was what he had tried to do, but he had failed. If it was for the reason I suspected, there would be Hell to pay.

Second, was Elessar truly responsible for this? Could he have reduced the one he claimed to love beyond time to this scared and broken elf?

I was not certain, but I intended to find out.

To be continued


	3. Beyond Love

Note: This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Legolas will be OOC for a while, but it will change. None of these are my characters! Elvish speech is in ''! This will primarily focus on Legolas. Legolas's POV.

Beyond Love

Part 2

I was relieved when my rescuer told me that he would not tell Aragorn where I was. I'd suffered too much already because of Aragorn, and the love we had once shared.

I'd believed that it was an eternal love, but now I knew better. Aragorn's feelings had gone beyond love for me to hate. And I'd never understood why.

For almost a week, I had been nothing but a shell after I attempted suicide. I'd been beaten for it, of course, and much worse had happened to me.

For fifteen years, no one had cared about me or treated me with any kindness. The one who claimed to love me had been the one to send me there. Another who had no reason to had saved me.

And, god help me, I still loved Aragorn, even after what he had done. But I never wanted to see him again. I wasn't going to let him hurt me once more. I might still love him, but I wasn't stupid.

After trying to kill myself, I'd entered a world where I felt no pain or pleasure, and it was very peaceful there. I hadn't wanted to leave. It was the only place I felt safe.

The gentlest of touches on me had brought me back. They weren't rough and demanding, which I was so used to. And this person didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to. Gentle strokes of a brush through my hair, which hadn't been brushed for longer than I can remember.

Fingers working through it, braiding it once more. I couldn't believe that anyone cared enough to fix my hair the way it used to be… before the pain and betrayal. Before Aragorn had listened to his best friend instead of the one who loved him.

And just like that, I was suddenly aware again. I could see again, and I was stunned when I saw who was sitting there. I caught his hand weakly, for I had none of my Elvish strength anymore.

Nor any good memories. Just night after night of pain. Nothing left of the sweet memories with Aragorn, before this all happened. Fifteen brutal years had seen to that.

Éomer sat there, as I held his hand. I wanted to make certain that this was not an illusion.

But it wasn't. I asked where I was. God, I hadn't spoken for who knows how long. My voice was unstable and weak.

He told me that I was in his castle in Rohan, before admonishing me to eat, lest Elessar see me like this before he came.

Panic soared in me at the name Aragorn used as the King of Men.

I pleaded for Éomer not to tell him I was with him. I couldn't face him again after what he did to me.

I'd only seen Aragorn once after being sold into slavery, and he'd acted like I had betrayed him. What made that more painful was the love I felt for him.

Why couldn't I just hate him? It would make it so much easier than to love the one you should hate. But I could never hate Aragorn, no matter how much I might want to.

Love unconditionally. That's what my father told me once. But I am not certain if he could have loved one who had betrayed him so. There was a very fine line between hate and love.

I ate a few pieces of fruit and drank three cups of water, dozing slightly.

Éomer came near me and pulled the covers down, for he could see that I was exhausted. I hadn't well and truly slept in what seemed like forever. He didn't mention it when I jerked away so that he didn't touch me.

A reflex, which I was partly ashamed of. Not that it had ever done any good. Cold, endless nights… Painful cries… And no one had cared.

I lay back on the bed, but I was still afraid.

For the first time in my life, I asked another to stand watch over me while I slept.

I was grateful when Éomer nodded and agreed. I could see that he was surprised, but once more, he said nothing. He took a seat once more.

I was so tired that I fell asleep almost immediately, with my arms in the bed beside me. I didn't know when I had stopped sleeping with my arms crossed over my chest. It seemed like ages ago.

I slept peacefully for a few hours, but then it happened.

Once more, I got caught in the grip of another nightmare. 

Countless faces, endless taunts, and agony searing through me. I cried out in my sleep, pleading for rescue. And wanting an answer from Aragorn: "Why?"

I was dimly aware of someone catching my wrists, before Éomer's voice said my name, as he shook me gently.

I jerked awake, and flinched when I saw him standing next to me.

Get  a grip, I tried to snap at myself. Éomer will not hurt you.

But I couldn't. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a few deep breaths before opening them.

Éomer had stepped back.

"I'm sorry," I whispered hoarsely.

"Tis all right, Legolas," Éomer told me gently.

I lowered my gaze, and Éomer reached towards me. I flinched, and he stopped.

He sighed. "Legolas, do not lower your gaze to me. You did nothing wrong. But I have questions that I need to ask before I confront Elessar."

I shook my head. "Say… n-nothing to him. He'll… he'll h-hurt me again."

"I won't let him hurt you," Éomer said firmly. "But if he is to blame for this, I do not want to just stand by and pretend that nothing happened."

"Please," I whispered, and, to my shame, a few tears ran down my face. "I don't want to see him."

Éomer took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "I will wait until you are ready, then, Legolas."

I wasn't certain if I would ever be ready to see Aragorn again.

But I nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Éomer questioned gently. "My ear is open, if you care to use it."

"I…" I wasn't sure of what to say. I was ashamed of my story, but Éomer knew part of it already. He'd seen it for himself.

"Legolas?" he asked quietly.

I looked at Éomer. "I… will try…"

"That is all that I can ask of you," he murmured, before he took his seat again.

I was nervous, and took a deep breath of my own. I then cleared my throat, before I began to speak.

To be continued


	4. A Silent Oath

Note: This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Legolas will be OOC for a while, but it will change. None of these are my characters! Elvish speech is in ""! This will primarily focus on Legolas. If you want to see how Elessar reacts to seeing Legolas again, read 'Shadows of Memories', because Elessar does not learn that Legolas is still alive in this fic. Éomer's POV.

A Silent Oath

Part 4

I listened quietly, as Legolas began to speak.

"I-It all started fifteen years ago, after the Quest was completed and Aragorn became the King of Gondor," he whispered. "We had hidden our relationship until that point, for I feared that if his people knew he was involved with me, Aragorn would be rejected as King." Tears formed in his eyes. "Aragorn broke up with Arwen, who went West with her father and grandmother."

I nodded. I could understand Legolas's feelings on that matter. Most humans would not have taken their king's chosen lover well, especially when it was another male.

"A few months went by. It was the happiest time in my life, for we did not have to keep the secret any longer. Then I met his best friend, and I instantly disliked him. Aragorn knew it, and was a little resentful. But I could see behind the sly smiles and smirks of his so-called best friend. Sarag was his name." Legolas shuddered, pain in his green eyes.

I gasped at that particular name. Why did it have to be him, I wondered. I had hoped to never see or hear of him again.

"Sarag cornered me several times, and tried to get me to break up with Aragorn for many different reasons. The fact that the king needed an heir was the main one. I kept refusing, until Sarag flat-out told me that Aragorn was looked down on because he was with me. I then told him that as long as Aragorn wanted me, I was his, and nothing would ever change that. And I did something that I regret. I told Aragorn that I did not trust Sarag. We had a fight over it, but I never told him that Sarag kept trying to get me to break up with him. A few days later, I found a letter written by Aragorn. He asked me to meet him outside of Gondor. I was foolish… and I went." Tears were beginning to spill from the tortured green eyes, as Legolas took a shaky breath, before he wiped them away.

I silently took out my handkerchief and handed it to the weeping elf. He took it, but held it in his eyes, turning it over and over. "What happened then, Legolas?" I gently asked. "Did he meet you?"

Legolas bit his lower lip and shook his head. Fresh tears appeared in his eyes. "No. Aragorn never showed up. Sarag did, with many of the king's soldiers. They attacked me… I couldn't beat them, though I tried," he whispered. "They held me down, and Sarag… He raped me. He told me that Aragorn would never want me now. I'd betrayed him. And he said that it was Aragorn who had sent him there to meet me."

I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. Bitterly did I loathe the day Sarag had been born, even more so now.

"I must have fainted or something, because I woke up in that slave-house. Sarag wasn't there any longer, for which I was glad. I felt sick and ashamed because of what he had done to me. My weapons were no longer with me. I didn't understand where I was, until the man who called himself my Master entered the room and told me that I belonged to him, now. I tried to fight my way out, but I never got out of the door. I was whipped and dragged back to the bed by some of the guards. They tore my clothes off and raped me as well, saying it would get me used to it. I fought with all I had, but it was not enough. And I was still in shock."

I was stricken at this story, and I knew it was only going to get worse. But anger was burning inside of me; anger at Lector, anger at Aragorn, and anger at Sarag.

Legolas shuddered, as he began speaking once more. "It went on like that for months. Every day, I was raped, starved, and tortured. I escaped once in the first year. I ran into Aragorn in an isolated town. He recognized me and dragged me to an inn and into his room, demanding to know why I'd left him." The elf shook his head and lowered his gaze. "I grew angry and broke free, running off once more. But I was caught again, and that's when I received the scar on my face. I never managed to escape again."

"God, Legolas," I whispered. "Is that why you tried to kill yourself?"

Legolas nodded. "Years of it had gone by. I lost the will to fight, for it never did any good. No-one cared if I cried or screamed out my pain. I could not take it anymore. So I slit my wrists almost a week ago. They found out, and chained me to prevent me from doing it again. I… I lost my grip on reality temporarily after that. Until you brought me here. Do you know that you are the first person who has touched me and not forced yourself on me in years?" He looked bewildered and lost.

"I will help you," I told him. "Stay here, as long as you need to. I will let nothing hurt you again, my friend. You are safe here, with me."

Legolas took another deep, shaky breath. "Thank you, Éomer. I have no desire to see Aragorn again."

I nodded. "I understand. I will keep him away from you, Legolas."

Legolas refused to look me in the eyes. "Why couldn't I just have died?" he cried suddenly. "It's not as hard as living is." He buried his face in his hands. "I should have died. There's nothing left to live for anymore."

I took a deep breath myself. It was as I had feared. Fear, depression, and suicide thoughts. Anger was mixed in there, as well, and I knew it had to be dealt with, before Legolas could emotionally.

The trauma and countless sexual assaults against Legolas had broken him, so that he wished for death.

I also knew that I would have to keep all potential weapons away from him, until I could reach the part of him that wanted to live.

"You cannot die, Legolas, for that would be too easy. Since when have you quit so easily?" I asked, to provoke his anger. I could see the tension in him, which needed to be let loose. He had pent up his emotions, and his anger was the worst emotion, for it was dangerous.

Legolas's eyes narrowed. "Since the one I loved threw me into the worst Hell of all."

"Let your anger out," I instructed. I un-strapped my sword and tossed it across the room.

Legolas gritted his teeth. "I no longer possess that which I did. My speed; my strength; my agility… it's all gone. Not to mention I no longer remember anything than my own nightmares. My weapons skill…" He shook his head. "I've even forgotten most of my native tongue, for none spoke it where I was."

I narrowed my eyes at Legolas. "Are you afraid to fight me?" I questioned, making my voice sound harsh. He reacted as I had expected him too. I'd insulted his Elven pride, to see if it was still there. I knew he needed to vent out the anger before it consumed him totally. I remembered all too well what happened if you did not release your anger.

Legolas jumped to his feet and lunged at me. He was right; he was not as fast or agile as he had once been. His Elvish strength and stamina were gone, but his anger gave him energy.

I stepped aside, and used one of my legs to trip him. Legolas went down, and I stood back, waiting for him to rise. He did, and anger burned in his eyes. The elf came at me again, full of rage.

I used only defensive moves, and was surprised when he actually managed to land a blow. I changed from merely blocking his attacks, and managed to send him to the ground again, using my foot.

Legolas swung at my face; I blocked it with my left arm, and then caught his arm. I twisted it behind his back, and spoke directly into his ears.

"You are not focusing, Legolas. Concentrate harder," I said firmly, before I released him.

Legolas snarled at me, and managed to strike me across the face.

"That's better," I murmured as I touched my now split lip. Blood flowed out of it, and my lips tasted salty. 

The elf struck again, and I blocked it, before lightly striking him back. I knew that if I refused to fight him, it would insult Legolas's pride and he would not fight, either. I also did not wish to harm him, which I could easily do, given his weakness.

I caught his right arm, and held it firmly. I did not expect such a violent reaction from him, however, when he suddenly hit me with his left elbow. I hissed in pain, and twisted his right arm hard.

Legolas let out a muffled cry of pain, but I did not loosen my grip.

"Release your anger," I harshly told him. "All of it."

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, clenching his teeth.

"I can handle it, Legolas. Do not think me weaker because I am a Man," I said, hating myself for the lie.

"If I release my anger," Legolas hissed, "it will not be pretty."

I twisted his arm slightly, hearing another cry of pain. "Do it." My words were crypt and firm.

I released him and he reluctantly released his fury on me. I blocked most of the potentially dangerous ones, but did not hit him back any longer. Fierce and aggressive blows struck me, but I ignored them.

I stood there silently, until Legolas sank to the ground, exhausted. I then knelt beside him, ignoring the bruises I felt forming on my face and arms.

"Do you not feel better now?" I questioned quietly.

Legolas nodded. He panted, as he looked at me. "How did you know that I needed that?"

I froze. "I will tell you later, Legolas, but you should rest again for now."

The elf frowned slightly, but nodded. He looked less tense than he had been before. I stood carefully, knowing I was going to be sore for a while. I offered a hand to Legolas, who looked wary. He then stood on his own.

I sighed inwardly. His anger had been dealt with; but only time would take care of his fear of physical contact.

Time for him to heal and regain that which he lost. The physical wounds were easily dealt with. His emotional wounds would be harder to take care of.

I now realized that I could help Legolas, even if I was only a king. I could be his friend and see him through this. The elf needed a friend right now, and I was the only one here.

As for Aragorn… I would be hard pressed to be civil to him if I ever saw him again. For Legolas had been put on my mental list of people to protect. He'd gotten himself added tonight. It was a small list of those I would kill to protect, and the elf needed protection while he healed.

If I ever caught Aragorn hurting Legolas again, in any way, shape, or form, I would not hesitate to kill him. That was my silent vow.

To be continued


	5. Setbacks

Note: This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Legolas will be OOC for a while, but it will change. None of these are my characters! This fic will primarily focus on Legolas. Takes place about six months after the last chapter. Legolas's POV.

Setbacks

Part 5

I lay silently on a bed in the Healers' Room, as Éomer looked down at me.

"Must we go through this every month, Legolas?" he questioned. 

I shrugged in answer.

Every month I tried to kill myself and every time Éomer stopped me.

I'd nearly succeeded this time. If a servant hadn't found me retching and brought me here, I might have died. Instead, I was given the antidote.

The time before that, I had stolen a knife from the kitchen and attempted to slice my wrists. Éomer had forcibly taken it from me before I could do anything.

"What did you use this time?" His voice was calm and patient.

"Poison," I muttered.

Éomer shook his head. "You can't die from poison. You are an Elf. A depressed Elf, but still an Elf." He sighed as he gazed at me. "Do you want to truly die, Legolas?"

I sighed myself. "I don't know."

"Then cease this, Legolas. Or you may wind up dead, when you did not mean to die."

I scowled at him. "What makes you the expert?" I snapped.

A flicker went through his eyes. "You aren't the only one who has ever been hurt, Legolas. Many are hurt that do not deserve it, and those that do are not hurt. It is the nature of the world."

I frowned, for I could see compassion and understanding in his eyes. "How can you even stand to be near me, Éomer?" I questioned. "I am ashamed of myself."

"Because I understand you, and I am your friend." The words were simple and eloquent.

"What do you mean?" I questioned. My curiosity had been piqued. "How can you understand, when I do not?

I envied Éomer, for his wisdom and strength. They dwarfed my own so much.

Éomer sighed, as he took a seat beside my bed. "Legolas, I have something to tell you. You have been asking questions that I was unwilling to answer, but I shall answer them now."

I gazed at him, wondering what he was going to say. I'd asked him several times where he found the patience to deal with my different emotions as they surfaced. Anger, hatred, self-loathing, confusion, and sadness.

My anger had been alleviated slightly because of Éomer. He spoke to me about my confusion, and helped me to understand better. How did he know just how to help me? That was a big mystery to me.

"What is it, Éomer?" I asked quietly, sensing this was going to be a serious conversation.

"I understand you, because I know what you have gone through too well. The same thing happened to me, when I was much younger," he told me.

My mouth dropped open. "But how? You're so… strong and…"

I was in shock. Éomer had been victimized as I had. And I had flung several cruel statements at him: 'How could you understand'; 'What does it matter to you'; 'You don't care'; 'You don't know what it feels like'; and 'You've never been through this'. 

Those were just a few of the many that I had said. And if what he was telling me was true, then I'd been taunting the one person that might possibly understand.

Éomer shifted his position slightly. "I was very young and very foolish. The pride of youth is often a weakness, and can cause serious repercussions."

I nodded in silent agreement, as I listened to him speaking quietly.

"Many, many years ago, Legolas, I snuck out of the castle to have an adventure. I told my father I was with my closest friend, and my friend covered for me, for he knew how bored I got inside these castle walls. There was a party in town, and I wanted to go. I always had to have things my way," Éomer said, in a brooding tone of voice.

I could understand that. As a Prince and potential King, I had been confined and restricted in my father's palace. And I had snuck out more often than not to have some time away from it all.

I quietly asked, "What happened?"

Éomer sighed. "I never made it to the party. I had managed to sneak out of the castle, and I was on my way over there when I was attacked."

I gasped as he continued.

"My attacker was strong and fierce, and though I am no child at sword-fighting, I was defeated. His movements were much like an Elf's, and he had incredible strength. But he was no Elf. He used a drug to knock me unconscious and took me to his home. Searing pain tore me out of my comatose state. I awoke to find him assaulting me. My clothes were gone and my hands and feet were both tied to a bed." Éomer took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"H-How did you escape?" My face was pale, as I slowly sat up and looked at him. I couldn't believe it.

"I didn't escape. I was rescued. I yelled for help until I was hoarse, and no-one came. My rapist grew angry and was about to kill me, when he stopped and smiled. 'I'll just leave you here to die,' he told me, before he replaced his own clothes and left."

I silently whispered, "Oh…god…"

I had never been left to die afterwards, though I had wanted to die.

Éomer sighed again, a sad, lingering sigh. "I nearly did die, Legolas. No-one could hear my cries, and I truly thought I was going to die. Days had gone by, and I was weakening. Then Téo came along. He'd been searching for his missing cat, when he heard my faint voice calling for help. He found me."

I frowned. "There is a Healer named Téo working for you. Is he the one who saved you?"

Éomer nodded. "Téo had no idea that I was the Crown Prince of Rohan when he rescued me, until I blurted out the entire story to him. To my shock, he didn't ridicule me or say that it was what I deserved for sneaking out. Instead, he found me some clothes to wear and took me back to the castle. I hired him to work for me, for he was homeless. At first, Téo served as my instructor and taught me how to defend myself better, for he is a valiant swordsman and archer. And he helped me recover from the emotional trauma of what I went through. I could do no more or less for you, Legolas."

"I had no idea…" I was in complete shock.

In spite of everything that he'd gone through, Éomer had recovered and was much stronger for having gone through it. Could I ever be that strong? I didn't believe that I could be strong again. 

"You will become strong again, Legolas. I believe in you," Éomer told me.

It was the first time in a long time that someone had said that to me. Someone believed in me?

"Éomer?" I said, when he stood and turned to walk away.

He looked back at me quietly. "Yes?" he questioned.

I bit my lower lip, before I took a deep breath. "I-I never thanked you." I lowered my gaze. I quietly said, "Thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome," Éomer told me. He smiled gently. "Get some rest for now, my friend." He then turned and left the room, closing the door behind him gently.

I thought on what I had just learned. There were many levels to Éomer that I had never taken the time to notice. I wondered if he had any more secrets like that one, which he had hidden so well. I'd been so caught up in my own pain, that I had never noticed his.

I felt a single tear drip down my face

I touched it in wonder, before I licked the salty liquid off of my finger.

To be continued


	6. One Small Step (At A Time)

Note: This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Legolas will be OOC for a while, but it will change. None of these are my characters! This fic will primarily focus on Legolas. Takes place six months after the last chapter. Éomer's POV. Aragorn does not learn that Legolas is in Rohan, nor that he is even alive in this fic. Read the finished 'Shadows of Memories' to learn how they found each other again.

One Small Step

Part 6

I was very pleased with Legolas's progress.

Ever since I had opened up and told him my story, he had ceased his suicide attempts. His attitude had turned around completely, and he spoke honestly with me about his feelings.

That he still loved Aragorn surprised me, but I had not shown it to him. The blond Elf needed understanding, not criticism.

In the past six months, the relationship between Legolas and myself had deepened, but not in the direction that his relationship had been with Aragorn. He confided in me, and I kept his secrets and told no-one what he said to me. His words were from the heart, and private. Our relationship had evolved into something approaching elder brother-little brother, but with an intimacy such blood affiliations could not attain.

For my part, I was relieved that he had never asked me to comfort him. I would have done so if he asked, but I fear that Legolas would have eventually regretted it. His heart and love belonged to Aragorn alone. And I found it easier to accept my 'brother' role than to be his lover, for he was much, much older than I. Yet I was the older one, it seemed. I took care of his emotional needs, and gave him a reason to live.

"If you cannot live because you want to," I'd said, "then live for revenge on your enemies."

Legolas approached me quietly, as I looked out of the window in my study. I rather liked the natural wood furniture in this room, and it matched the wall hangings and rug. I turned to face the blond Elf. He seemed slightly nervous, and I thought it was probably because I wore my kingly robes and crown now.

Legolas wore some of the clothes I had ordered made for him; a blue shirt and brown leggings. His feet were bare, because he claimed that he loved the feel of the bare floor. I never minded, myself, as long as he agreed to wear shoes if he ever went outside.

"Yes, Legolas?" I asked.

He bit his lower lip. "I… I want to learn Elvish again," Legolas confessed, his words coming out in a rush.

I hid a smile. I had anticipated this turn of events sooner or later, and had made arrangements. "As you wish. When would you like to begin?"

"As soon as possible, Éomer. I miss my native tongue," Legolas told me.

I turned and walked over to the bookshelf. From there, I procured a thick book that I had requested from the Elves of Mirkwood a while ago. It had only arrived two weeks prior to this. I had had to go through Aragorn to get it, which had not pleased me. But I had tolerated him long enough to get what I wanted for Legolas.

I handed the book to Legolas, and waited for his reaction.

The blond Elf opened it and read a few lines, before gasping, "Where did you get this?"

"From Mirkwood," I told him. "I thought you might want to use Elvish again."

A wary look appeared in his eyes. "Did you tell them where I was?"

I sighed. "Legolas, you know I would not. I simply said that I had an interest in learning Elvish, and used other means to get it. Legal ones, of course. Your brothers mostly believe you secretly went West, and the eldest believes that they ought to blame Aragorn for luring you away from them."

He nodded, and said nothing at my mention of Aragorn. Instead, he looked at the book. It held the language of Sindarin in it, with Western translations next to the Sindarin words.

But I believed that he would pick it up again easily. Elves rarely forgot anything, and it was his native language, after all. Maybe once Legolas remembered, he would teach it to me. I'd been denying my own heritage for a long time.

"Go read it," I urged him. "I have letters to write, anyway."

Legolas hesitated a little, which was customary when he wanted to smile but did not. "If you are certain…" The Elf sounded like he could barely keep from running.

I grinned. "Off with you, child! Let me work!" Then I gasped.

A smile briefly crossed his face, before he eagerly ran off.

I counted to three silently. 

Legolas popped back in. "Thanks," he said, before vanishing again.

A slight chuckle left my mouth, as I shook my head. That was new for him, I thought. Legolas had been so excited over the book that he'd actually smiled. I had not been certain if he ever would again. It had taken a year for that, I thought.

I couldn't believe that it had already been a year. The time had flown by so fast. It seemed as if it was only yesterday that Legolas had been brought here for healing.

Legolas had many different personalities. Sometimes he acted like a lonely, frightened child. At other times, he seemed cold and distant, and it was hard to reach him. Yet there was a third side to him, which I had only seen recently.

His mature and stable self had begun manifesting itself, in words and actions. The Elf could change like the wind, though, but I was prepared for it, as I had prepared for nearly anything.

Everyone who lived at the castle was aware that Legolas was there. They knew to keep it secret and safe, or they would risk my wrath. Not even the guests knew that the blond Elf was here.

A messenger entered the room. "My king, visitors have arrived from Gondor," he said nervously.

"I have issued no invitations to any visitors from Gondor," I said flatly. "Send them away, and make the appropriate excuses." Inside, I seethed in rage. How dare Aragorn be arrogant enough to send visitors without even telling me about it? He might rule Gondor, but he did not rule Rohan.

"Sire… King Elessar Telcontar is with them," the messenger whispered, before cringing. My entire staff knew that I wanted nothing to do with Gondor or its King.

Anger flashed in my eyes. "Very well, then," I said, my fury in my voice. "Delay him until I come, and do not let him roam, whatever you do. And do not mention the Elf. Remember that."

He nodded and looked relieved, before he turned and ran off.

Oh, god, I thought. But I was beyond furious now. If I was not a king, and did not have to adhere to protocol, I would throw Aragorn out of my castle. But instead, I had to let him stay here, and his presence would traumatize Legolas.

I quickly left and went to see if Legolas was in his room. I opened the door and peered in. A fraternal smile appeared on my face at the sight.

Legolas lay on his bed, on his stomach, reading. His legs were bent, and he had his chin propped up in his hands, occasionally turning a page. I cursed Aragorn for forcing me to have to hurt Legolas.

"Legolas?" I questioned.

He turned to me, surprised. "Éomer, what are you doing here? You are usually in meetings around this time."

"I know," I told him, as I entered his room.

It was small, but comfortable. The bed, a table, a chair, a wooden dresser, and a bookshelf were the only furniture pieces in here. A few faded pictures hung on the walls, and a green rug lay on the floor. A few books sat on the bookshelf, as well as a small, green vine plant, which hung down onto the floor. His new clothes were in the dresser, and another plant was on it. Numerous candles had been placed around the room, which gave the room a cheery glow, as well as a sweet smell.

Legolas sat up, and stuck a spare piece of paper in the book, before he closed it. He left the book on the bed and turned to face me. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

I crossed the room and sat next to him on the quilt-covered bed. "Legolas… For some reason Aragorn has paid me a surprise visit," I said, in a disapproving tone of voice.

"He's…here?" Legolas gasped. His face went pale. "Is… Is Sarag here, too?"

"I don't know," I murmured. "Possibly. I did not invite him here, Legolas, but if I send him away, he will get very suspicious."

Legolas whimpered, "I don't want him here. Please send him away." His voice was pleading and desperate. "He'll hurt me again."

I took the scared Elf in my arms. "I would jump into the fires of Mordor before I let Aragorn hurt you again," I stated firmly.

A few tears were in his eyes. "Don't let him near me, Éomer. I don't want to be hurt like that again." His grief and shame touched my heart.

I vowed, "I will tell Aragorn to stay away from this part of the castle. If he comes here anyway, I will throw him out. In the meantime, Legolas, you need to not be seen. My servants will not tell on you, but I cannot say the same for the soldiers from Gondor."

He nodded slowly. "I will stay here, then," he said softly. "You will come and visit me, won't you?" His tone was half wistful and half pleading.

"Of course. I will bring a plate of food for you later, my friend," I said. "I must go and 'welcome' Aragorn." I thought I'd rather 'welcome' Aragorn with my sword than pretend to be polite. But I would let the King of Gondor know I disapproved of his unannounced and surprise visit to Rohan.

I sighed, for Legolas and I would not be able to dine together, as we usually did. I bid him farewell, before leaving his room. But the sight of the forlorn expression on the blond Elf's face made me even angrier at Aragorn.

Legolas had been locked up enough to last him the rest of his Immortal life. He should not have to be confined to his room to avoid the one who sent him to Hell. Death might have been more kind, but I was glad that Legolas was alive.

I took my time, as I made my way down to the ground floor. I was already appropriately dressed, so I did not have to change. As I reached the entrance way, I heard Aragorn's voice intertwined with other voices.

All voices ceased as I entered, my head and chin held high, as I walked over to the King of Gondor. Aragorn met my gaze neutrally, and I did not care. I was relieved to see that Sarag was not with him, however. I would have killed him, regardless of the outcome.

The Gondor soldiers finally left, heading down to the spare quarters where my own soldiers were. Aragorn and I were left standing alone.

"I wish that you had warned me you were coming," I said impassively. "I have very few guest rooms left for someone of your station." Somehow, I managed to make the word 'station' sound like a vague insult.

Aragorn's eyes narrowed. "I will take whatever you offer." He offered no explanation of why he had come so suddenly.

I turned and began walking up the stairs, forcing Aragorn to follow me. "There is a new rule that you and your soldiers should heed. Any who disobey it will be thrown out," I told him severely. "I am serious when I say this. Neither they or you are to be remotely near where my room is." As he had, I offered no explanation.

I'd placed Legolas near my room, for he somehow had acquired the habit of sleepwalking. After a few very close calls, I had finally arranged for him to be roomed near me. It was more convenient when the Elf had nightmares, anyway.

"You would throw out the King of Gondor?" Aragorn asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

"The King of Gondor should remember that he is in Rohan, not Gondor," I responded, my voice equally sharp. 

To be continued


	7. Unwanted

Note: OOC= out of character. Aya, if you want to see Legolas and Aragorn back together, read 'Shadows of Memories'. They won't get back together in this fic. This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Legolas' POV. Takes place right after the last chapter.

Unwanted

Part 7

Why was Aragorn here, I wondered, trying to control my breathing, for I was gasping, in short little breaths.

Could he know that I was here? But how could he know, I thought. Éomer had sworn he hadn't told anyone outside of the castle.

I didn't want Aragorn here. I hated him… and I loved him.

Why did he have to come here now? I never wanted to see him again, not after everything that had happened to me.

I swallowed hard, trying to control my instinctive panic. If Aragorn found out that I was here…

Éomer hadn't sounded happy about Aragorn coming, which did not surprise me. He loathed the very sight of the King of Gondor.

I sat on my bed, with my arms wrapped around myself, rocking slowly. My feet hung down to the floor, as I tried to breathe it out.

The pain…the tears…the screams… It was all coming back. 

Only one person could do this to me. Aragorn…

My room was too small for me, much too confining. I needed to get out of here for a while, and escape.

Éomer was planning to teach me how to fight once more, and we'd even decided on a day. Now everything was being shoved back because of Aragorn.

I couldn't stay in here any longer. Hours had gone by since Éomer had come here to warn me. I stood, and grabbed my brown cloak with the hood. I was glad, now, that I was still very thin, for I barely recognized myself once I put the cloak on, pulling the hood over my face. I was looking at my reflection in the window.

Even my father wouldn't have been able to recognize me. My cheekbones were easy to see, and there was a distinct paleness to my face. The scar across my eye also made me look different. I had not dared to venture outside of the castle since I had arrived, so my hair was a darker blond than it used to be. My green eyes were dull, but there was nothing I could do about them.

I positioned the hood so that my hair could not be seen, or most of my face. I slipped my bare feet into the leather shoes that Éomer had given to me, and cautiously left my room. The cloak was large enough to cover my clothes, much like a robe.

No-one was around, so I snuck around, trying to remember the way out of Rohan Castle. I had never tried to leave it before, but I could not stand the thought of being here while Aragorn was.

Not even I had been in this corridor before, as I entered a dark passageway, wondering where I was. No light was anywhere to be seen, and I looked around. I had only stuck to a few certain places in the castle, and this was not one of them.

I wound up somewhere near a room, but did not know where I was. I hated to admit it, but I was completely lost. I roamed around, and could not find my way out. Everything looked the same, as I glanced behind me.

I was very uneasy, and started to wish that I had never left my room. It was so dark that even I could barely see anything at all. Éomer's going to be so mad at me, I thought desperately. I bit my lower lip, and sat down to think.

What should I do? I could not risk calling out for help, because Aragorn might hear me. But I did not want to stay here, either, for I was starting to be a bit scared. It was strange… the dark had never frightened me until after everything had happened.

I sighed, and then froze at the sound of someone approaching. I stifled a gasp, as a figure that I could not recognize in the pitch-black darkness came towards me. I silently sprang behind a nearby post, and peeked out to see who it was.

The figure stopped, as if he could feel someone watching him. I could tell now that it was a Man, judging by his size, and the sounds he made as he walked.

"Who's there?" he questioned harshly.

The blood drained from my face. It was Aragorn. I made no sound, and stayed put in my hiding spot.

Aragorn snapped, "I know you're there. Come out or else…"

I couldn't stifle a gasp, and his eyes instantly turned towards where I stood, clutching the post. I leapt behind the post, and sank to my knees noiselessly.

Please… let him go away, let something happen… Just get him away from me, I silently screamed.

A rough hand grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet.

Aragorn hissed, "So you are spying on me?"

I shook my head and frantically struggled to break his grip, avoiding his gaze.

"Does Éomer spy on all of his guests?" Aragorn demanded, keeping my arm in his impossibly strong hand. "Or is it just me?"

I panicked as his other hand reached for my hood. Desperation gave me strength, and I managed to break free by twisting my arm suddenly. I dashed away, running as fast as I could, breathing hard. I was never going to do something this stupid again, I vowed, if I could just get away from Aragorn.

I suddenly fell to the ground, a few feet from the lit hallway. Aragorn had tackled me from behind. He had easily caught up to me, for I truly no longer possessed my Elven skills of agility and strength.

I squirmed, and had to choke back a scream at the feel of his body against mine. I kicked and scratched at him, whimpering in fear and terror. Aragorn pinned my hands to the ground, and a few tears came to my eyes, as I lay there face-first. I stifled a sob, as a hand traveled up my spine to my hood and prepared to pull it off.

"What is going on here?" Éomer demanded, as he came around the corner and saw Aragorn holding me down. "How dare you assault one of my servants! Release him at once!" Anger flashed in his eyes.

I had never been so glad to see him in my life. My green eyes darted up to his, and Éomer paled slightly to see that it was me. I was the only one in his castle with green eyes. But my friend regained his composure swiftly.

Aragorn remained where he was. "He was spying on me," he coldly told Éomer.

Éomer looked at me. "Is this true?" His tone was more gentle towards me than it had been towards Aragorn.

I shook my head vehemently. "Got…lost," I choked out, in a distorted voice.

"You heard him," Éomer said, turning back to Aragorn. "Let him go. I don't know what customs are held in Gondor, but in my castle, servants are not assaulted."

Aragorn climbed off of me and stood. "I was not assaulting him; he purposefully hid from me." A coldness was in his voice. "And servants are not assaulted in Gondor, and neither do they hide themselves."

Éomer frowned and questioned, "Wouldn't a servant hide from a King out of fear?" His tone was matter-of-fact and coolly dismissive. "Particularly when they are lost?"

I pulled myself off of the floor, and kept my face away from Aragorn's. His grey eyes were staring at me hard. I then shuffled over to Éomer and bowed before him, as a servant would. The look in his eyes was disapproving, but he was relieved, as well, to see that I was all right.

"Come," Éomer said, and turned to lead me away.

I obediently followed, keeping my head bowed, as he took me through the hallways, returning me to my room. He opened the door and walked inside. I silently followed, and closed the door behind me.

"What were you thinking?" Éomer whispered, in case anyone was listening.

"I got lost," I said in a low voice. "I was going to go outside for a while; I was tired of staying in here. Only I couldn't figure out how to leave, for I could not remember."

Éomer sighed, "Legolas… Could you not have waited for me to return before you ventured out?" I hated the slightly disapproving note in his voice.

I bowed my head. "I should have. I didn't expect to run into…"

"What happened?" Éomer asked. "Did he…"

I shook my head and whispered, "No. He thought you sent me to spy on him. I ran from him, but he caught me. If you hadn't come along, he would have removed my hood and found out who I was."

A hand touched my shoulder, and another went under my chin and forced me to look Éomer in the eyes.

"Do not take such a risk, my friend. It could have been worse…much worse," he murmured.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I will not do so again."

Éomer nodded. "I think you learned a lesson, Legolas."

To be continued


	8. Lessons

Note: Aragorn and Legolas will not be getting back together in this fic. Read 'Shadows of Memories' for their reunion. This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Éomer's POV. Takes place about a week after the last chapter. I promise a longer chapter next time, and another time jump of six months, so I can get to the Rogue/Legolas part of the story.

Lessons

Part 8

I was lucky to have found Aragorn before he managed to discover that it was Legolas he was holding down.

Being pinned to the ground was the last thing that Legolas needed. It just brought up painful memories for the poor Elf. I damned Aragorn again. How much longer was he going to stay here, I bitterly wondered. I'd certainly made it clear that he was not welcome, but Aragorn refused to take a hint and go.

I was about ready to order him to leave. Legolas had been forced to stay in his room for twenty-four hours straight for a week now, alternately sobbing and weeping. It was just as I had feared; Aragorn's presence was destroying what Legolas had already accomplished during his year here.

Why was the King of Gondor here, I thought angrily. He had no legitimate reason for being here. So why did he stay?

I stalked through the hallways silently, intending to ask him flat out why he was here.

Aragorn was in the middle of speaking with one of his soldiers when I found him. A strange look entered his eyes as he saw me approaching, with my lips pressed together tightly.

"What do I owe the honor of your visit to?" Aragorn questioned, his voice slightly sarcastic.

I smiled grimly. "What do I owe the honor of your long visit to? Surely you have more important things to do than dally here in Rohan." My voice was just as cold as his was.

Aragorn looked me directly in the eyes. "Actually, I came to tell you something. I meant to come sooner, but I am very busy…"

"What would that be?" I asked, refusing to rise to his challenge. Let him play a stupid game if he wished. This was my castle, and I was not going to tolerate his presence for very much longer.

"Gandalf's dead," Aragorn stated flatly. Remorse was in his eyes.

I paled slightly. "How?" I asked, stunned. Gandalf the White was the most powerful Istari that I had ever known.

Aragorn's voice remained neutral. "He was searching for Legolas ceaselessly, and…" A sigh escaped from him. "He pushed himself beyond his limit. Not even Gandalf could survive when he pressed himself beyond even an Elf's endurance."

"He is truly dead?" I questioned, knowing of the many times that Gandalf had seemed to die, but had always managed to come back.

"Yes. His body was found near Mordor. Apparently he thought that Legolas might have been taken by Orcs and brought there." No emotion was in Aragorn's voice when he spoke Legolas' name.

I was sorrowful, for Gandalf was a trusted friend. But I couldn't keep myself from questioning, "Do you still think of Legolas?"

He froze instantly and said coldly, "It was his choice to leave."

"Are you so certain that nothing happened to him?" I pressed.

"If anything had happened, I would know about it," Aragorn snapped.

Always arrogant, I thought angrily. "How could you be so certain, Elessar, if he loved you? Would someone who loved you just disappear without a trace? That was not his way." I had to refrain myself from saying 'is' instead of 'was'.

Aragorn frowned at me. "If he loved me, he would not have left me. He left, so he did not love me. Excuse me, please…" He turned and stormed away angrily.

So Legolas was a sensitive topic to him, I mused. Even after all of this time, Aragorn felt something. I wondered what it was. But a frown appeared on my face. Why was Aragorn insisting that Legolas had left of his own free will? I didn't understand that, either.

I knew Legolas was telling the truth, at least as far as he knew it. Aragorn was acting strangely, for I'd never seen him actually pin a servant on the ground like he had. For a few moments, I'd thought Aragorn was planning to…

I shook my head and sighed. There was nothing I could do about what had already been done, but I could be a friend to Legolas. In fact, I was currently his only friend. The servants liked him, because Legolas treated them with respect, which was rare in most castles. I treated them the same way.

I decided to go check on Legolas, for I was certain that he was lonely. I could only go when I was certain that no-one from Gondor was around, so I went there quietly. I opened the door to Legolas' room and closed it behind me. Then I saw a charming sight.

Legolas was stretched out on his bed, face-first. His blond hair trailed over his face, which was turned towards me, and his mouth was slightly open. His left arm and leg were dangling off the bed, as he breathed deeply. His right hand was on the Elvish book I'd given him, holding it open. Faint, dry tear streaks were on his face. His blankets lay on the floor next to the bed, while Legolas slept, looking very young and innocent in his brown leggings and blue shirt.

I smiled fondly and shook my head. I took off my shoes, and silently went over to the bed. I carefully removed the book, and marked the page with a bit of torn parchment. I then turned back to my Elven friend. After I slowly placed his arm and leg back on the bed, I picked up two blankets and gently covered Legolas. Finally, I blew out the lit candles in the room, before I put my shoes back on and left silently, closing the door behind me.

Twas a pity that Legolas' healing ability had not healed the scar across his eye, I thought. But he was beautiful without it, for one's beauty comes from the inside, from the strength of your heart. At least Legolas could see with it; he was very lucky, for I had feared he would not be able to see. The thin scar had not damaged the eye itself; just the skin above and below it. I personally thought that it must have slipped and that's why he was not blind in that eye.

One of my servants approached me, and I acknowledge him with a slight nod.

"Your highness, the King of Gondor has decided to return home," he informed me timidly.

So I did strike a nerve, I thought. It was satisfying to me, to know that I had upset Aragorn, for he deserved it after what had happened to Legolas. I wasn't certain of what this would mean in the future, however, for I did have a treaty of peace with Aragorn, regarding Rohan and Gondor. I did not believe that Aragorn would be foolish enough to start a war with me, though.

I looked back at my servant. "Give him my regards and tell him I hope that it was nothing 

that I said that made him decide to return home so suddenly," I said neutrally. A hidden smirk was in my voice.

The servant nodded. "At once, your highness." He ran off, and I was left there alone.

A pleased smile appeared on my face. Now that Aragorn was leaving, Legolas would soon recover from the trauma of his presence. I knew that Legolas would be happy to know that Aragorn was gone. I was rather pleased as well. Soon I would begin training him to fight again, for I knew that Legolas would not stay here forever. He needed to regain his Elven skills and abilities before he left, for I intended for him to recover fully, at least physically. 

I was not sure if Legolas would ever heal emotionally, but I was going to give it my best shot. But he had been severely traumatized and it would take time. In the distance, I heard the sounds of horses galloping off. Now Legolas and I had plenty of time.

Time to plan; time to heal; time to learn.

To be continued


	9. Training

Note: Aragorn and Legolas will not be getting back together in this fic. Read 'Shadows of Memories' for their reunion. This entire fic is Rated R for attempts at suicide, mentioned rape, language, and violence! Legolas' POV. Takes place about six months after the last chapter. The Rogue/Legolas part of the story will be coming soon. Sorry this took so long!

Training

Part 9

Éomer faced me, with a sword in his hands. The blade slashed at my left arm, so I brought up my own sword to deflect it, before I countered with a strike at Éomer's right arm.

Sweat trickled down my face, as well as his. Our shirts hung open from how warm the exercise was making us, though winter was already here. Snow covered the ground, crunching beneath our feet as we circled each other slowly.

He easily blocked it and feinted left, right before he quickly lashed out with his foot and tripping me. I crashed to the ground, but stood instantly, swinging my sword at him again, aiming directly for his side.

I was panting by this point, for I was exhausted. Every day, since Aragorn had returned to Gondor, Éomer had been training me with to fight with a sword, and supervised my physical training, which was slowly helping me regain my strength and agility.

But I was so tired right now… we had been doing this for over five hours, much longer than usual. These spars only ended when one of us beat the other.

Every muscle in my body screamed in pain as I moved, but I ignored it. Éomer never gave me any leniency on the drills we did together, so I knew not to ask for any.

He deflected my blow and managed to press the point of his sword against my wrist, before he twisted and thrust it towards my heart. My sword blocked it, and the two of us stared at each other for a few moments.

'I'm tired, Éomer,' I murmured. 'Can't we just call it a draw this time?'

Éomer sternly replied, 'An enemy would not care if you were tired, Legolas.' He withdrew his sword and struck again.

It was a good thing that we were both using practice swords, or I would have worried more. Éomer was a good teacher; tough, yes, but also fair. He had the patience to wait until I was strong enough just to swing a sword, and until then, the two of us had worked on mastering Elvish. We could both carry a conversation in it now, though I doubted that I could ever be as fluent as I once had been in it.

I wearily swung my sword out to prevent the blow from landing and finally spotted a slight weakness in Éomer's defense. My sword came up and pricked the side of his neck, while his sword tapped my side.

'It appears that you have your draw, my friend,' Éomer murmured. 'Well done. You've improved; I can tell you have been practicing.'

I nodded, and let myself relax. Éomer walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder hesitantly, knowing what I was likely to do. Vague uneasiness entered into me, and he must have seen it in my eyes, for his grip tightened slightly, before he released my shoulder.

'Sorry,' I told him.

Éomer merely raised an eyebrow at that, reminding me that I was not supposed to apologize for such actions. 'Go rest, Legolas, for you have a few hours until dinner. And I need to do something kingly today.' He shot me a grin, which I returned.

I teased slightly, 'Kingly? You mean you need to go polish your sword.'

A laugh escaped from Éomer, a rich, hearty chuckle. I couldn't hold in a slight burst of laughter. We grinned at each other for a few moments, before I headed off towards my room.

It was a long walk, and along the way, I stopped to return the practice sword. My muscles truly ached, and I knew that after dinner, I needed to soak them in some warm water. Otherwise, they would be stiff in the morning.

I silently made my way up the stairs into the castle, and headed towards my room. I could not wait to get the shoes off my feet, so they could be free again, without being confined inside of those dratted boots.

But I supposed it was better than getting frostbite- or worse on my feet. I greeted the few servants I saw on the way to my room cheerfully. They all smiled and returned my greeting along the path, until I reached the door to my room.

I opened it and entered, quickly striding to the bed and collapsing on it. I untied my shoes hurriedly, and wiggled my toes slightly. Yes, I knew it was childish, but shoes felt so constraining to me. I lay on my stomach, enjoying the comforts of my room, with my head resting on my folded arms.

I must've dozed off shortly after, for I awoke to hear Éomer saying my name. My eyes refocused and I wordlessly looked at him, until he murmured that it was time to eat.

My green eyes lit up and I eagerly stood, for I was very hungry. He laughed when I told him that, and teased that I needed to gain more weight. It was a running joke between us.

Éomer believed that I should force myself to eat, which I refused to do. I looked much better than I had, and my body was not nearly as thin as it used to be, though I was still slender. I did eat when I was hungry, and I ate as much as I wanted. Part of the reason I was still thin was because of the training exercises I did every day, to build up my muscles more.

After I mastered sword-fighting again, Éomer had vowed to teach me how to physically fight once more, should I ever be disarmed in a fight. He seemed obsessed with making certain that I mastered every possible skill I could once more; tracking, running, hearing, fighting, endurance, and countless others.

I honestly did not know if I would ever learn all that, but I was definitely making progress.

When my sword training at first begun, for two weeks straight Éomer had been able to disarm me in two moves. But as my muscles and strength grew, I was able to hold onto my sword and even occasionally managed to land a slice. Though he usually won; this was the first time he had not.

Éomer and I walked side-by-side, talking quietly of tomorrow's training.

Before we entered the room we usually ate in- his study- he looked directly at me.

"I'm proud of you, Legolas," Éomer earnestly told me.

Confusion shone in my eyes, as I looked at him. "Why?" I asked, a slight frown on my face.

Éomer answered, "Because you are getting stronger and working very hard. You should be proud of yourself for what you have accomplished, Legolas. I am proud of you."

"T-Thanks, Éomer," I murmured, a slight blush creeping onto my face. It had been a long time since someone had told me that they were proud of me.

Though I was glad that I was not the only one who believed that I was getting better. Éomer had merely confirmed my own belief, and I smiled genuinely at him.

"It's because of **you** that I am getting better," I then stated firmly. "You never let me give up, no matter how tired I get or how frustrated I am. You are always there, like a brother." My eyes glowed with gratitude. 

I could see that he was pleased with my remark about him being like a brother, for a soft look appeared in his eyes.

"I will always be here, Legolas," Éomer replied. "For as long as you need me to be. But I believe that you will one day no longer require me to believe in yourself."

To be continued


End file.
